“Okay.” Pi agreed, eyes glued to the green leaves resting in his palm.
“Please tell the Boy with blue eyes that 62 got caught by Defense. He doesn't know how he's going to get out, but he's going to try.”
The smaller Boy nodded again. His eyes were somber when he looked into 62's earnest face. “I'll tell him. I hope you make it.”
CHAPTER 41
SOMETHING COLD AND metallic poked into 62's side. A simple command was issued in a tinny voice. “Wake.”
62's eyes opened cautiously and forced themselves shut again against the harsh light of the cell. One of the giant prison Machines known as Correctors stood over him. An assortment of handcuffs and keys dangled from the thing's waist. Its clamping hands opened and shut rhythmically, waiting for a reason to restrain 62. He groaned when the Corrector poked him a second time. “I hear you. I hear you. I'm up.”
“You are needed in the Dream Ward. Please prepare yourself for work.” The deep grinding voice of the Corrector made 62 cringe. The Machine barely fit through the opening at the mouth of the cell when it left, shutting his door behind it.
62 quickly went through his morning routine. Clean clothes and a washed face made him feel a little better, but the optimism was lost when he opened the meal chute door and found it empty. “How long until breakfast?” No one responded.
Eventually, the door opened again and 62 took that as his signal that it was time to leave. He made his way to the exit, pausing at the door to wait for one of the Correctors to fetch him. Instead, Major stood outside.
“Hello.” 62 raised his cheeks in what he hoped looked to be an eager smile.
“99's report says that you were able to manipulate another being's dream.”
Shrugging his shoulders, 62 kept his smile. “I guess so. I thought I was in my own dream, though.”
When Major frowned, deep lines creased his face. “We've only had a couple of dreamers able to do that. They were both fully matured adults.”
“Maybe they were slow learners.”
The creases on Major’s face deepened. “I don't like jokes.”
“Okay.” 62 let his smile fade. “So what do you like?”
“Results.” Major turned and walked away. 62 wasn't sure if the silence that wafted behind him was an invitation to follow, so he waited in the doorway of his cell. Just before he reached the corner at the end of the hall, Major looked over and grunted. “Come on. We have work to do.”
Trotting to catch up, 62 passed the Correctors. They were both in sleep mode, plugged into their housing set into the wall. There were other cell doors down this hallway, but none of the lights were on. Not that he'd ever seen much crime in Adaline, but he was surprised that he was the jail's only guest.
They made their way to the Dream Ward in silence. Major ignored everyone they encountered, and 62 tried to balance the stiff indifference with a welcoming smile. Some Men smiled or waved in response, but most of them kept their heads down and their feet moving forward.
The door opened ahead of them when they arrived and a Nurse was already waiting to plug 62's head into the dream apparatus. 62 made his way to the bed at the end of the row cautiously. “Where's 99?”
“We don't need him for this.” Major nodded to the Nurse and it placed the cap of wires on 62's head.
“But I don't know how to get to the starting point without him.” 62 tried not to panic when the Nurse pushed him down on the mattress and began tying his hands to the side of the bed.
Major huffed. “You said our best dreamers might be slow learners, remember? You're probably smart enough to figure it out.”
The Nurse began prattling about vitals. Major gave a thumbs up signal and then the world went dark. An aching current pressed him down into a dream. He dropped to the floor of his mind with a thud.
“Chobham.” 71's voice was unmistakable. His voice repeated the password again. “Chobham. Chobham. Chobham.”
“I hear you.” 62 could hardly make his voice exit his throat. The pins and needles shooting through his body made measuring his speech painful.
“Chobham.” 71 echoed again.
“I'm here!” He managed to shout the words despite the pain pressing in on him.
“Where's the opening? I can't see you.” 71 said with concern.
“I don't think I can open it. Not yet.” 62 pushed himself up. The pain began to dull, so he moved around some more. “I'm not in a real dream.”
There was a long pause. “What do you mean? You're either dreaming, or you aren't.”
“71, I joined Defense like you told me to.” 62 pressed his hands forward, searching for the edge of his dream. “But it's not what I thought it would be. They're hooking us to Machines and using a program to force us to dream.”
“Us? There are others?” 71's voice became clearer. “Marvelous.”
“No. You don’t understand.” 62's fingertips brushed the wall separating him from his teacher. He poked a hole in the dream and began to pull a passageway open. “They're using us to find other dreamers.”
“How many more of you are there?” 71's smiling face became visible through the opening.
“Just one. My friend 1124999. You remember him?”
“Oh yes!” 71 clapped. “Such a delight that he's found his way into Defense, also. You know, I thought they'd gotten rid of the Boy. So glad to hear he's found a home after all.”
“Yes, but–” 62's voice was cut off by a thumping sound from 71's side of the dream.
“What the dustdevil?” The teacher's face turned toward the sound.
“71, listen to me. They're using us to find other dreamers.” The thump came again. Louder. Metallic.
“Oh?” 71's face changed from distracted curiosity to a bolt of pain. “Oh! What's going on?”
“No.” 62 pushed his hand through the gap, grasping his teacher's robes. “Don't let them take you.”
The light in 71's dream flickered. His face drew in on itself as he gasped for air. “62, I don't understand. What's happening?”
“Oh, no. I'm so sorry. I didn't know this would happen!” 62 pressed his face against the gap between them. 71's robes slid between his fingers as he was being drawn away toward wakefulness. 71's light fluttered a moment more. There was a horrific crash. 71 yelled once, and then the world fell back into silence. The gap between them stitched itself up and 62 had to pull his arm back into his own dream to keep it from being caught up in the mending.
“What have I done?” 62 whispered. His dream echoed with the sound of his own crying.
CHAPTER 42
62'S TEARS DIDN'T STOP falling when he awoke. The Nurse and Major appeared blurry and washed out as he sat up and waited for the wires to be removed from the cap atop his head. Major patted him on the back, congratulating him on his solid work. The Nurse cooed words of assurances that his body functions were normal.
“What's going to happen to him?” The words came out between hiccups. He sniffed and rubbed his nose on his sleeve.
“Happen to whom?” Major's eyes focused on the readout flowing across the screen on the computer beside the bed.
“The Man in my dream.” 62 shed new tears. “He's my friend. What'll happen to him?”
“He was encouraging children to cultivate an anomaly.” Major glanced at 62, turning back to his computer when their eyes met. “That's a serious offense. Treason against Adaline.”
“But he loves Adaline. He wanted me to join Defense to make it better!” 62 buried his head in his hands. His tears welled between his fingers before flowing down his wrists.
“Ah, but Adaline is perfect. No improvement is needed beyond those deemed necessary by the Head Machine.” Major placed a tentative hand on the Boy's shoulder. “You helped us to close a very disruptive loop in the system. This is the work you were designed for.”
“No.” 62 shook his head. “No, no, no. I'm an anomaly. I wasn't designed this way. It was a mistake. This was all a mistake.”
Major considered the Boy for
a moment. “Perhaps. But it's a happy mistake. Now we move forward. On to find the next bug to be fixed.”
62 looked up at Major, eyes already bloodshot from his tears. He wiped his runny nose again with his sleeve. “You still haven't told me what will happen to him.”
“He'll be given the same choice you were given. Help us to remove other anomalies, or be removed himself.”
“He'll never help you.” 62 whispered.
“Are you sure?” Major removed his hand and folded his arms with a smirk. “You said yourself that he wanted you to join Defense. Had we known that he may be sympathetic to our cause, we would have tried harder to find him a long time ago.”
“He – he wants to give us the freedom to dream.” 62's hiccups prevented him from sounding as angry as he felt.
“For what purpose?” Major scoffed. “It's a waste of time. Inhibits rest, reduces the ability to follow clear directions and opens up ideas for debate where none is needed.”
“You're wrong.” 62 growled. “About all of it.”
Major squatted down beside the bed. He placed his hands on either side of 62 on the mattress. He looked the Boy square in the eye, jaw clenched and eyes alight with fire. “Your friend will help us, or he will die.”
62 threw himself at Major, kicking and screaming at the top of his lungs. He careened over the Man's shoulder, pulling his hair as he fell down his backside. Major stood up, flailing his arms around 62 and turning in circles to get him off. The Nurse grabbed at them both. Her hands locked onto one of 62's feet and one of his hands just before they came crashing down on Major once more.
“You're going to get it, you little sneak!” Major howled as 62 bit his arm. The Nurse and Major together pulled 62 to the floor, pinning him down. “Nurse. Sedate him!”
A needle protruded from one of the Nurse's busy fingers, pricking through the skin of 62's thigh. A cool tingle spread from the tiny wound. It filled his leg and moved into the rest of his body with rapid speed. “I won't let you do this!” 62 cried. “You can't take us. You can't!”
For the second time that cycle, the darkness was forced onto 62’s mind. This time, there were no dreams.
CHAPTER 43
“WAKE.” THE FAMILIAR poke of a metal boot pressed against 62's side.
“You don't need to step on me.” 62 rolled over to face the giant Machine that towered over him. “I wasn't asleep.”
The Machine backed out of the cell and a much shorter shadow appeared in the doorway. A person entered and sat down just inside the door. The Machine locked it shut behind him. It took a moment for 62's eyes to adjust to the light that flickered on overhead. When he blinked the sting of the fluorescents away, 99 looked back at him.
“It's been a few cycles since you've worked in the Dream Ward.” 99 stated the fact as if 62 wasn't aware that he'd refused to exit his cell at Major's beckoning.
“What did they do to 71?” 62 tried to read emotion on his brother's face, but there was none.
“He's being tested.”
62 rolled over to face the far wall. He didn't know what it meant for 71 to be tested, but whether he was succumbing to forced dreams in the ward or being poked at in a lab made no difference. He pulled the blanket over his face.
“The least you can do is come help him find his way.” 99 prodded. “Maybe if he saw you, he would be encouraged to help us. The way you felt when you saw me.”
“You tricked me.” 62 spat the words into his blanket. The thin fabric did nothing to filter the anger in his voice.
“I didn't trick you,” 99 offered. “I didn't even know you.”
62 pushed himself off the floor, ready for a fight. He glared at the Boy who had once been his closest brother, seething in anger. “You knew what they would do to me. What they'd do to my friends. And still you helped them to find us. To hunt us down like bugs in faulty software.”
99 nodded. “That's what you are, really. Fleshy bits out of place.”
“No.” 62's hands balled into fists. “We're more than fleshy bits. And who are you to determine whether or not we're out of place? You and I are the same. We have the same anomaly. The same dreams. If I'm a bug in the system, then what are you?”
“Major says I'm the fix. The patch to make the world run smoothly again.” 99 shrugged. “You could hold the same power, if you'd just come back to the ward.”
“You don't even report everyone!” 62's fists pounded the wall beside him, his frustration too much to bear. Each hit produced a clang in the hollow metal wall. “We went past so many dreamers, ones you didn't even look at because you are too afraid to be alone.”
“I report what's needed. Pi, for example, will someday be pulled into the ward. For now, he's far more useful in the Nursery. If we remove him, how will we know what the bad people are up to?”
62 gritted his teeth. “They aren't bad. And even if they do break the rules, they're nowhere near as bad as you.”
99 looked surprised. “I'm a good Boy. I follow all instructions given to me without question.”
It was like talking to a Machine. The light of intelligence was washed from 99's eyes. He was no longer the friend that 62 remembered, and hadn't been since the cycle he turned himself in as defective. 62 growled, “Well, I have questions.”
“Then you have doubts that what we're doing is best for Adaline.”
“I have no doubts. This is wrong. You are wrong.”
99 gave a slight nod. “I'll let Major know you've made your decision then.”
“It doesn't matter what 71 decides to do.” 62 shook his head. “I'm not helping you anymore.”
The Boy who 62 had loved above all others rose from his corner of the room. 99 gave another sharp nod, then pressed his hand to the door. The cell door opened, 99 exited, and 62 fell back to the floor. Tears streamed down his face. It wasn't the first time he'd been singled out because of his actions, but never before had he felt so alone.
CHAPTER 44
IT WASN'T LONG BEFORE someone in a lab coat came for him. 62 stood, determined to not be afraid. The Man looked wary of him, as if touching him might pass along a disease. 62 followed the Man out of the cell and into the hall. Maybe dreams were a disease. But they were also wonderful and amazing in ways that he'd never find words to describe.
“This way.” The Man tilted his head to the left. The motion was unnecessary, since two of the correction bots grabbed 62's arms and pushed him down the hallway behind the swishing tails of the lab coat.
Through the booking office and out into the main corridor of Defense, 62 was pushed as far away from all of the healthy and productive workers as possible. The Man in the lab coat stopped in front of an elevator, pushing the up button six times in rapid succession as if it would make the gears turn faster.
62, the Correctors and the Man squeezed into the tiny box once the elevator doors finally opened. The Man gave 62 a weary look as he pushed the button for Level 1.
“I haven't been up that high before.” 62 commented.
The Man gave 62 a sideways glance. “Not many have.”
“What do they do there?”
The Man took a step closer to the door. A shrug of his shoulders the only answer. 62 nodded. The elevator rose quickly, sending 62's feet into the floor. It felt like all of the blood was going to rush out of him through his toes. A ridiculous thought. 62 gave a smirk. When the elevator dinged and the door slid open, there was an uncomfortable jostle between Man and Machine as they worked out who would exit the narrow door first. The lab coat won the dance, and flitted out ahead of the rest of the group.
“To prep.” The Man pointed the Machines down a hallway past a series of offices. The lights were different up here. Yellower than in the levels where 62 lived. The fixtures seemed older. Switches coated in the gray-brown film of too many fingers and not enough cleaners. The floors covered in bumpy carpet with depressions and stains in patterns that suggested that the furniture in each passing room had once been somewhere else.
&
nbsp; The Correctors forced 62 to stop at an oversized steel door. Tings and shuffles could be heard just behind it, suggesting someone lived just beyond the heavy metal barrier. The Corrector on his right reached forward, pressing its finger to a data pad. A whirring of locks unlatching was followed by a low squeal. Another Man in an older lab coat waited just inside.
“1124562,” the Man said, reading from his tablet. “So good of you to join us.”
The Correctors retreated, the slab of a door swung shut, and 62 stared at the Man with as much courage as he could muster. “What's going to happen to me?”
“We're going to do some tests.” The Man's sly grin made 62's stomach turn. “That will determine what will happen next.”
Despite his fluttering heart and the twisting of his stomach, the tests involved nothing more than a scanner placed against his neck. Data passed through the scanner and onto the Man's pad. He made a series of sighs and snorts as information filled his screen.
“Disappointing,” said the Man in the threadbare lab coat. He stepped over to the wall behind him and opened a small hatch, no larger than the books 62 sometimes read in his dreams. “Everything is in order. No anomalies to report aside from the dreams. Sadly, no dissections today.”
62 could hear a Nurse in the next room come to life. Instruments clanged against metal drawers as it began putting things away. 62 let go of a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, his worst fear avoided by way of his hacked chip.
“What now?” 62 asked quietly.
The doctor shrugged. “Disposal, of course. Anomalies must be removed from Adaline.”
The Man tapped his tablet, calling a pair of Transportation Aides. When the wide steel door opened, they waited just outside with a gurney in tow. The Aide closest to 62 reached out to grab him, but he ducked under the outstretched arm and ran past the Machine. He tore down the hall toward the elevator, but the Correctors hadn't yet left and they rushed toward him when he drew near. Pinned between the Transportation Aides and Correctors, he ducked into a side office and locked the flimsy brown door.
The Adaline Series Bundle 1 Page 34